


What Makes You Happy

by Melancholy_Incarnate



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst, Armor, Din Djarin Removes the Helmet, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Force-Sensitive Reader, Found Family, Freezing to death, Huddling For Warmth, Humor, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Mandalorian Reader, Silly, Slow Burn, Snuggling to survive, Strangers to Lovers, The Force, and they all hate reader, but it mostly stays on, creature feature, sledding with baby yoda, theres some wild creatures encountered
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:20:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28364565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melancholy_Incarnate/pseuds/Melancholy_Incarnate
Summary: The Armorer's apprentice was a strange one. With an unusual helmet and even more unusual attitude, none of the other Mandalorians quite know what to make of her. When the Armorer decides she knows all she can know, she is sent on her final task before she is no longer an apprentice: bring back beskar from an Imperial stockpile. She is sent off with the only Mandalorian who can help her get that which was stolen by the Empire. With an exceptional knack for trouble and a talent for causing mischief and mayhem, will the apprentice be more than the Mandalorian bargained for?
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, The Mandalorian/Reader
Comments: 20
Kudos: 94





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I should warn you all that I haven't seen any Star Wars since I was ten. I've seen through the original movies and the prequels, but I haven't seen any of the newer movies or any of the shows. I'm like four episodes into the Mandalorian. I promise I'll watch the Clone Wars and all the movies. But I absolutely will fuck up canon. Like all the time. So if the apprentice is breaking the code of the Mandalorians or whatever just know the only research I did was watch the show and look up Wookiee swear words. (Unfortunately I found none)  
> 

The bounty hunter had never seen another Mandalorian flounce, but the Armorer's apprentice bounced and skipped like some strange enthusiastic droid, unaware of the importance of his offering and the significance of its return. It was jarring and more than a little off-putting, and made worse by her bizarre choice of armor. Specifically her helmet. The unmistakably human mannerisms combined with the visorless helm made her look more like a droid than any of the tribe. The metal was dull and had a roughness that gave it a sort of unfinished look. It appeared to be dotted with spots of rust, too. All over, little reddish spots scattered across it like stars. _How could an armorer not take care of her helmet?_ he wondered. It was featureless and blank, lacking the classic T-visor and cheek indentations. It was untraditional as she was, and it doubtless alienated her from the more traditional members of the Mandalorian covert. 

The apprentice pranced past him to sit next to the Armorer. It was frankly kind of disgusting how carefree she seemed. Secretly he wished he could be that carefree, but he would never admit it even under threat of death. He peered at her suspiciously, even though no one could see it. Perhaps _because_ no one could see it. 

"We heard you retrieved a significant amount of beskar," began her much more dignified master. She was just as unique in her helmet, but far more traditional. It was rather bronze, and small, blunted spikes adorned the top. The visor, too, was unusual, following a more human eye outline with a nose guard jutting down between. It was much less unsettling than her apprentice's apparent lack of facial features. 

He nodded and produced the heavy ingots, laying them on the table before them. The apprentice sat up straighter and leaned forward just a little, abandoning the at-ease pose of steady routine for the rigidity of professional curiosity of something new and important. There was a new wariness, too, like she knew something big was about to happen. He almost missed the impatient twitch of her red-gloved fingers against her knees, wanting to reach forward to touch the shining metal bricks, greedy as a loth cat. He was all too aware of the quiet clanking and scraping metal that signified the attention of the Tribe. They crowded in behind him to stare in curiosity and envy at the treasure he had brought. 

"Maker's balls..." the apprentice murmured. "That's a lot of beskar."

The Armorer didn't flinch but chose to ignore the interruption of her foul-mouthed companion. They were all thinking it.

"This amount could be shaped many ways," said the Armorer, probing for the answer obvious to all. 

"My armor has lost its integrity; I may need to begin again," answered the bounty hunter, clearly not new to this game.

"With this much beskar, we could fashion a new cuirass," said the apprentice, tone waiting for approval. Her helmet was respectfully inclined, but with a slight cockiness that belied her years of experience with this ritual of tradition and necessity.

"That would be in accordance with his station," replied her teacher.

"That would be a great honor," the bounty hunter agreed solemnly. 

"It will draw many eyes." The apprentice's warning was pointed but with the barest hint of humor, aimed not at the bounty hunter, but at the throng of eavesdropping Mandalorians. _It already has._ It became ever so much more ironic when one man stepped forward and inspected an ingot. He scoffed.

"These were cast in an Imperial smelter." He tossed it back, his whole manner oozing disgust. The apprentice caught it and placed it back onto the neat stack.

"Of course it is. That _is_ what happened to most of our beskar, in case you forgot," said the apprentice coldly. It nearly gave the bounty hunter whiplash. The image of the woman who moved like walking was a game mere minutes before was incongruous with the frigidly serious professional who now sat before him. 

"These are the spoils of the Great Purge. The reason that we live hidden like sand rats," he continued.

"We need no history lesson," she replied, still icy.

"Our secrecy is our survival. Our survival is our strength." The Armorer sat, yet again ignoring her apprentice's outburst, not looking at either, focusing instead on arranging the bricks. 

"Our strength was once in our numbers," said the other Mandalorian, unwilling to let go. "Now we live in the shadows and only come above ground one at a time." He paused. "Our world was shattered by the Empire, with whom this _coward_ shares tables." He reached over and grabbed the helmet of the bounty hunter, clearly about to remove it. The bounty hunter sprang up and grappled with the man, striking a vicious downward blow on his elbow, forcing him to let go of his helmet. The bounty hunter pulled out a knife and slashed at the bigger Mandalorian furiously before his hands were caught in a vise-like grip and he, too, retrieved a knife. They wrestled like that for a moment before the Armorer stood. They both froze, knives to each other's throats.

"The Empire is no longer," she declared. "And the beskar has returned. When one chooses to walk the Way of the Mandalore, you are both hunter and prey. How can one be a coward if one chooses this way of life?" she addressed the whole room, chiding those who would side with the larger man. 

"Have you ever removed your helmet?" the Armorer asked the bounty hunter.

"No."

"Has it ever been removed by others?"

"Never," he growled.

"This is the Way."

"This is the Way," repeated the gathered group. 

"This is the Way," repeated the large Mandalorian. He lowered his blade, however reluctantly, and took a step back.

Situation no longer immediately dangerous, the apprentice spoke. "What caused this damage?" she asked the bounty hunter, gesturing to the battered durasteel.

"A Mudhorn," he replied.

The slight turn of her helmet revealed the glance at her master before the Armorer nodded.

"Then you have earned the Mudhorn as your signet. I shall craft it," the Armorer decided. The apprentice was a little hurt that she wouldn't be included in the fashioning of the signet, but said nothing, merely deflating a little in her seat.

"I can't accept it. It wasn't a noble kill."

The apprentice's head lifted sharply, but she remained silent. _What does he mean it wasn't a noble kill?_

"I was helped by an enemy," he elaborated. 

She couldn't contain herself. "Why would an enemy help you in battle?"

He sighed, and if she had to choose what emotion his body language and tone conveyed in that moment, it would have been _shame._

"It did not know it was my enemy." The apprentice was a little shocked. There was a very long pause before the Armorer spoke.

"Since you forgo a signet, we shall use the excess to forge whistling birds." She lifted the bricks and put a few back into the container. 

"Whistling birds will do well." The shame still was not gone from his voice, though he disguised it well. _Not well enough,_ thought the apprentice. "Reserve some for the foundlings." His tone became a bit more clipped, a bit more sharp, like he knew exactly what she was thinking.

"As it should always be. The foundlings are the future," the Armorer said sagely. "This is the Way."

"This is the Way," said the gathering.

"This is the Way," said the bounty hunter, voice low.

After gazing a moment longer at the throng of Mandalorians and the bounty hunter at the table, the Armorer twitched her fingers at the apprentice, who immediately began to arrange the beskar ingots side by side in the crucible. The bounty hunter watched intently as she carefully and lovingly slid the crucible into the forge. In silence, they watched the metal start to warp and melt above the intense heat. When it had melted, the Armorer spoke as if this were a regular transaction, and not the return of thought-to-be-lost beskar.

"Whistling birds are a powerful defense against multiple enemies. Use them sparingly, for they are rare," she intoned, affixing electronics to the metal of one of the missile weapons.

The beskar in the forge was shaped to the specifications input in the computer by the Armorer, and the weight slammed down on the hot metal over and over. The apprentice removed it from the forge, and placed the cuirass over the anvil. Bang, bang, bang, the hammer came down, shaping the piece. When the Armorer was finished, the apprentice quenched the armor. The liquid hissed and bubbled angrily, cooling the cuirass until it was safe to touch. She buffed and shined the thing until it was perfect, rubbing out imperfections invisible to all else. 

Finished, she presented it to her master, who then gave it to the bounty hunter. They said a few words, and exchanged a "This is the Way" before the bounty hunter left. Of course, the apprentice could have turned up the sensitivity of the audio units in her helmet, but that was highly frowned upon, and somehow the Armorer always seemed to know exactly what she was doing. 

When the bounty hunter had departed on whatever business he had and with the crowd dispersed, the apprentice was alone with the Armorer. 

"I'm surprised you mostly made it through that."

"I can be solemn!" the apprentice said defensively.

The Armorer leveled a gaze on her that was so laden with amused doubt that it nearly knocked the wind out of her.

"You need practice," she said.

"Being solemn?" the apprentice asked, confusion evident.

"Well, yes, with that, but also with beskar. You will be a brilliant armorer someday, but the covert has no material for you to practice with."

"You're sending me away." It was not a question. Her voice was flat as she continued. "I still have much to learn, but you are sending me away." 

"I am giving you your buirkan. Your responsibility. It is time for you to prove yourself worthy. This is the Way."

"This is the Way," said the apprentice, slightly fidgeting with the hem of her cape.

"You are to go to the Imperial smelting complex on Kashyyyk and find that which was stolen from us."

Her head snapped up so quickly she got a crick in her neck. _Ouch_.

"You want me to go to Kashyyyk and sneak into an _Imperial stronghold_ by myself? How will I even get there? I have few credits to my name, certainly not enough for a trip to Kashyyyk! Not to mention how I would even get the beskar off-planet!" She was being mouthy and she knew it. She also knew she should stop and _think._ The Armorer always always always had a plan. She wouldn't be sending her off to certain failure. _Right?_

"The bounty hunter will take you. Not straight there, of course, but when he has a bounty nearby, he will take you to Kashyyyk. I have also asked that he remain on the planet in case you run into trouble."

_**In case** I run into trouble? Like this whole buirkan isn't a recipe for disaster? _

A new, more urgent thought occurred.

"When are we leaving?"

The smile in the Armorer's voice was mischievous, but not malicious.

"Tonight."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ya girl really on magician youtube again after 5 years just for this fic huh

The apprentice leaned against the hull of the old ship, bored out of her mind, almost every worldly possession she owned stuffed into the pack on her back. Four changes of clothes, three blankets, and a little pillow were wrapped tightly together and took up most of the room in the sack. The rest was occupied by toiletries and personal items. _How luxurious! I am truly living in excess,_ she thought sarcastically, checking the time again. He should have returned to the ship twenty minutes ago. _Maybe he's not keen on the idea of a guest._ In all honesty, she wasn't exactly keen on _being_ his guest, either. But she'd keep waiting. Her back, though, was getting stiff from standing in such an uncomfortable position. With a quiet groan she stretched, spine popping satisfyingly. She slumped back into the side of the ship, head lolling sideways to look out over the city. _Bored._

Then the night, formerly quiet, was abruptly interrupted by the sound of distant shouts and the flash of blaster fire. Little pins of red light were faint in the sky as wayward fire went high. _Not a cantina brawl. Too much blaster fire._ A spike of worry wedged itself firmly in the apprentice's chest, but she stood where she was, half hidden behind the ship. The sounds and flashes were growing closer, too close for comfort. _I'm an armorer, not a warrior,_ she said silently, the closest thing to a prayer that had ever left her lips. 

The Maker must have heard her, because the cargo bay opened. She snatched up her heavy tool kit, feeling something in her shoulder pull too taut and stretch horribly, but she scuttled in like a woman possessed, scampering up the ladder into the living quarters before she put down the box with a heavy sigh and a vehement swear. _Son of a bantha._ The apprentice crouched on the floor, rubbing her shoulder gently while she adjusted the feeds in her helmet, turning all the microphones to maximum sensitivity. Almost immediately they detected something. Footsteps. Probably not the bounty hunter. _Did they see me come in?_ she wondered. The intruder prowled into the cargo hold and clambered up a few rungs of the ladder, but mercifully didn't make it high enough to peer over the lip and see her sitting there like an idiot without a weapon.

For almost a full two minutes they both waited in near silence, the apprentice listening to the intruder's breathing and the far away screams of dying men. Slowly, so painfully slowly, the apprentice reached into her pocket and pulled out a little vibroblade, wincing at even the smallest rustle of fabric. Then the audio units picked up the crunch of boots again. More hurried this time. From the sounds emanating from the cargo bay, the new arrival made it several steps inside before the original intruder leaped down behind them.

"Hold it, Mando." The voice was deep, and not the bounty hunter's. That was probably the first intruder. One of them was a Mandalorian, at least- that was for sure. Maybe not the bounty hunter per se, but the list of possible Mandalorians it could be wasn't exactly a large set and common sense implied that whichever one was the "Mando" in question was also the bounty hunter. It _was_ his ship, after all. _Now is **not** the time to be pedantic_, she scolded herself.

"I didn't want it to come to this," said the unknown voice. "But then you broke the Code."

The pause that followed was heavy, but then the _zip!_ of Mandalorian vambrace wires and the clang of metal broke the silence. Something hissed loudly, but the apprentice couldn't tell what. Blaster fire, though, was easily distinguishable as it echoed through the ship. Then a groan and something heavy falling to the ground. One set of footsteps climbed the ladder and a shiny beskar helmet poked over the edge. 

"You made it." Definitely the bounty hunter. He didn't even seem fazed by the fact that there was a near-stranger lurking in the cockpit of his ship, clutching a weapon pointed at him. Though she supposed she wasn't exactly _menacing_. He strode past her to sit in the big black chair in front of the half-lit control panel and put in the correct sequence to lift off. They ascended to a cruising altitude and sailed through the sky for a few minutes in silence. 

The apprentice sat on the floor behind the bounty hunter, ignoring the little green thing he had in a bassinet next to him, wrapping her cloak around herself. _Is it more a cape or a cloak? What's the difference_ _?_ Either way the floor was rather cold. Just when she was gathering the courage to say so, she saw something out of the corner of her eye. She turned to look at it, and the bounty hunter noticed it not long after. It was a Mandalorian from the Covert flying one of the jetpacks. He saluted and flew alongside the Razor Crest for a brief few seconds before peeling away and down. 

"I gotta get one of those," remarked the bounty hunter.

"They like to get tangled up in your cape. Cloak. Whatever. Either way it always feels like a fire hazard," replied the apprentice. "Also heights feel much higher when you're soaring over them with nothing to break your fall."

"But you're okay with flying?"

"Yeah. I'm enclosed and this feels solid enough under my feet." She rapped her knuckles on the metal floor for emphasis. 

The green thing cooed and reached for one of the levers. It had a particularly entrancing ball fixture on the end, and the apprentice couldn't exactly blame the creature for wanting to touch it. 

The bounty hunter, much to her surprise, unscrewed the ball from the stick, and with a reluctance evidenced by the pause he took, dropped it into the creature's awaiting hand with a put-upon tilt of his beskar helmet. 

The ship tilted higher and the sky darkened. The planet fell away beneath, only the white puffs of clouds visible as they left the atmosphere. The apprentice wasn't looking at the planet, however. She watched gloved hands manipulate the levers and buttons, memorizing the hyperspace sequence. Unfortunately, it still caught her off guard when the ship shot forward. She was momentarily breathless and squashed against the metal wall, shoulder pinching. _Ow._

The ship quickly stabilized, and the roar of the engines died down a little. The little green child, clearly eager to stretch his short legs, clambered out of his pod and struggled up onto the control panel in the dark. He looked around with curious eyes and pressed one of the glowing green buttons. _Click!_ The little LED turned off and something in or on the ship made a dull hiss. The bounty hunter pressed a few buttons of his own and it stopped. The chid pressed the button again and the LED lit up green again. Something powered up with a whir. 

"Stop touching things."

The kid wiggled its ears and stared directly into the bounty hunter's beskar helmet as he reached back and flicked a switch. The cabin shook and rattled until the bounty hunter hit a button and it stopped. Unwilling to repeat _that_ , he picked up the green toddler and placed him on his lap. Together they looked at a star chart. The apprentice sprawled on the floor, wary of another jolt or shake that would send her tumbling through the cockpit. 

"Let's see. Sorgan. Looks like there's no star port, no industrial centers, low population density. Real backwater skug hole. Which means it's perfect for us." He was speaking out loud, just musing. He addressed the child. "You ready to lay low and stretch your legs for a couple of months, you little womp rat?" he asked. There was _affection_ in his voice and it was just the tiniest bit startling to know a man made of beskar could be so _soft._ "Nobody's gonna find us here."

* * *

"Quit _squirming_."

The apprentice was seated in the red chair behind the bounty hunter's own Captain's Chair. While it was probably comfortable for someone tall, it was not made for someone small. 

"Well, _Bossy_ , this seat is slippery and my legs aren't quite long enough for me to brace against the floor." She let go of the arms of the chair and immediately slid down so she was only half sitting. _See?_

He huffed. 

"Hmm. Wait." The apprentice took off her shoes and sat sideways in the chair, legs over one arm and leaning against the other, shrugging in as close to satisfaction as she was going to get. "I guess this works well enough." The seat was narrow, so it wasn't exactly _ideal_ , but she'd take what she could get.

She curled her head against her chest and the back of the seat, fully intending to take a nap despite the inevitable crick in her neck and the dig of her helmet. But the green thing had other plans. It began to fuss, and before she could move to do anything, the bounty hunter picked it up and bounced it on his knee.

"Is that your foundling?"

An unsaid "What do you think?" hung in the air as he turned to look at her. _Just trying to make conversation. No need to get grumpy,_ she thought.

"Yes."

"Huh. Does it have a name?" she asked. Pause.

"No."

It was still crying, big, heart-wrenching sobs that shook its whole little body. 

"Is it hungry? Tired? Does it need to be changed?" _Poor little thing._ The bounty hunter offered it a tube of nutrient paste, but the little monster only wailed and pushed his hand away. "Maybe it's bored," the apprentice hypothesized. "You know, needs somebody to play with it." _Yikes, that sounded a **lot**_ _more condemnatory than it did in my head._ Hurriedly, she asked, "Do you have any round credits? Calamari flan would work, I just need t'ad." _Hopefully the foundling doesn't know Mando'a numbers or I'll have just given away the trick._

Suspicious of her intentions, he handed over two, quickly enough that the kid probably didn't notice. It was still very much preoccupied with crying, still bouncing on the bounty hunter's knee. The apprentice turned her back to both of them and tucked one disc into her palm, tensing it just enough that the top of her gloved hand looked mostly flat, but that the flan wouldn't fall out. Then she turned back. 

"Hey! Hey baby!" she cooed, trying to get the green foundling's attention. It worked, much to her surprise. "Uh, watch this!" She held her hand at a slight angle to obscure the little round flan and held the other one in her free hand. She flourished and displayed it to the little creature, tapping it on the hand holding its twin. "One, two, three!" and then she smacked the coin she showed the baby down onto her other hand and let the one it held fall. 

"See? It went right through my hand!" 

Instantly the child stopped its bawling and reached for her hand. Discreetly she dropped the flan into the bounty hunter's waiting hand and he pocketed it without a word.

She gave the child her hand to inspect and picked up the dropped credit. The child babbled happily, and the bounty hunter gently wiped away the tears still wet on the foundling's green face in a display so tender it was almost funny. The child twisted and turned her red-gloved hand, looking for some way the coin could have vanished through it. He _squealed_ in delight. 

"Wait wait wait. Watch this." The apprentice held up the coin in her hand and quickly adjusted her gloves, depositing the coin in the other hand as she did so. _Quickly, quietly, just a little flourish with the other hand._ Then she held up the hand that the coin was no longer in, pretending she was still holding it. She tapped her closed fist to the front of her helmet, then presented it to the child, who peered down excitedly. Dramatically she opened it one finger at a time to reveal that it had vanished. The foundling was shocked and looked around for the 'missing' flan. 

"Aha!" gasped the apprentice, putting her hand around behind one of his giant, kite-like ears. She scratched the back a little and displayed the coin, magically reappeared. "It was in your ear!" she teased. The child giggled and guffawed, grabbing for the credit. The apprentice turned her head in silent question, and the bounty hunter tiredly inclined his helmet. 

"Just make sure he doesn't swallow it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to see the tricks described in this chapter, just comment and I'll make a video. (I learned these a long time ago and have no idea what they're called. If any of you are magicians please feel free to lmk)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter today, early upload. Trying to shift my posting schedule to fridays probably unless yall have a different day you like better.

"Your monster is asleep," remarked the apprentice.

"Don't call him that."

"Your son is asleep," remarked the apprentice.

"Foundling."

"Your foundling is asleep," remarked the apprentice.

Silence. 

"I, too, want to sleep," continued the apprentice. She was irritable and tired; the child, put simply, sucked the life out of her. She wasn't exactly _fond_ of kids. She was okay with them and could handle them well enough, but she didn't really understand how they worked. They were loud and always inexplicably sticky and she was always afraid she was going to accidentally break them. This child was somehow worse, and the apprentice was exhausted after a mere two hours with the tot.

Silence.

She sighed. "Where am I going to sleep," she finally said. 

"The bunk." Talking to the bounty hunter was like pulling teeth. He offered no more information than exactly what was asked for. Infuriating.

 _The "man of few words" routine is getting old_ _**quick**_. She rolled her eyes so hard he could probably hear them rattle in her skull. 

Exasperation seeped into her tone like a fatal fuel leak. "What _'bunk'?_ Do you have a spare bunk? Actually, speaking of bunks, I don't know where they are. I don't know where anything is. I didn't get a tour, and I _certainly_ didn't have enough time to explore before someone I assumed was hostile got onto the ship mere moments after I did."

"No spare bunk. Just the one." 

"Where will _you_ sleep? I'm not sharing," she warned, pointing a finger up to his chin threateningly. 

"The cockpit." _Maker, these two-word answers are going to make me insane._

"At the next port we're getting materials for a second bunk. And you're paying," she announced. _That's what you get for being underprepared_. 

The bounty hunter breathed out a sigh and grunted as he stood. 

"This way." _Another two word response. He's definitely consistent._

He slid down the ladder and the apprentice trailed after, clutching her bag of belongings.

"Refresher." He gestured to a door. "Bunk." He opened the door to the bunk. It was tiny and cramped and the entirety of the space was taken up by the bed and a cargo net hanging above it. It looked like a storage closet he'd shoved a cot into. The apprentice had a hard time believing he could even fit in such a small space. She slowly turned her head to stare at him.

"You have no blankets. Deep space is cold!" She shook her helmeted head. "I can't believe you aren't a frozen husk."

 _I am,_ he thought mirthlessly. But instead he said simply, "My cloak." He lifted it to show it off to her, revealing the tattered and frayed edges. The bottom especially was looking worn, littered with holes and so thin it was almost gauze.

"Unbelievable." She rummaged in her pack, muttering something about "men...", pulling out the three blankets she'd painstakingly chosen. Black, brown, and scarlet. Furiously, she foisted the biggest, softest one onto him, shoving it into unready hands. She was a little surprised herself that she had given him that one. _It was just the nearest at hand,_ she lied to herself. (If she was being honest, she felt bad for taking his bunk.) It was the nicest of the three she'd brought, but based on what she'd seen so far, the guy _really_ could use a little luxury in his life. 

"Thank you," said the bounty hunter, sounding bewildered. He stood awkwardly for a moment, like he wanted to say something but didn't quite know how, but instead turned and left. 

He climbed up the ladder into the cockpit and locked the door, the baby's pod hovering safe and sound just outside. Satisfied that no one would see him, the bounty hunter removed his helmet. The first breath of unfiltered air was always the best. It felt... _freer_ in his lungs. He stretched his neck side to side, no longer compressed by heavy beskar on his skull. His cape came off next, folded neatly and placed on the floor. Then he unclasped his breastplate, vambraces, backplate, and cuisses, stacking them next to the captain's chair. No matter how many years he'd worn the armor, he always felt so light when he took it off. Almost like he could float away into the dark of space. Anchorless. Weightless. Without the armor, he was no longer "Mando". No longer the feared bounty hunter. He was just Din, and he was _tired._

Down to his flight suit, he peeled off his gloves, then his boots, setting them under the control panel. Then his gaze fell to the scarlet blanket. Hesitantly, like he wasn't sure he was allowed to, he unfolded the soft material and wrapped it around his shoulders. It was bigger than he expected, covering his toes and resting on the floor. _Glad I cleaned the floor yesterday_ , he thought, looking down. 

Din leaned against the door and slid down it until he was lying on the floor, ratty cloak under his head like a pillow, looking out into the smearing stars of hyperspace and thinking of home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will be super important later, especially the blankets.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the planet she's from is loosely based on Maui Covenant from Dan Simmons's _Hyperion_ series, which I totally recommend.

The ramp of the ship lowered slow with a whir to thud on the grassy loam of Sorgan. The apprentice gaped at the scene before her and staggered out of the ship, falling to her knees on the soil. The lava flats of Nevarro were beautiful in a blackened, barren sort of way, but _this_... Well, there were a lot more leaves than she'd ever seen, that was for sure. And here the sun didn't beat down on you like a hired thug. And here the air didn't try to scorch your lungs out. And here the sky was so _blue_ it almost hurt to look at. But the apprentice looked. She stared and stared like she could never get enough, and she _couldn't_ get enough. She would _never_ get enough of looking at a sky like this. It put a longing in her heart so strong the breaths wouldn't come. It was the same color as home. Not Nevarro, not the Covert, but the place before.

A verse from a song long forgotten rattled around in her head. The song of the old sailors to their wives, the song of the sea to the land.

_I want to go to the clear blue sea, I want to feel the breeze. With sand of gold and seaweed green, I know no greater peace. Where the islands dance is where I'll be, come to the sea with me. I know a place where the waves and clouds race, come to the sea with me..._

A heavy hand clapped down on her shoulder and broke the reverie. 

"Ow!" she yelped. 

"You alright?" asked the bounty hunter. 

"Yeah. Yeah. I'm fine." She got to her feet and brushed off her knees, still looking at the clear sky above. "Just try not to knock me over next time is all."

The bounty hunter didn't reply, instead turning and starting off between the trees. _Eager to be on his way, I guess._

The walk really wasn't very long, only about an hour at most, but in the silence of the bounty hunter's presence it felt like an _eternity_. Each breath lasted eons and chipped away at the apprentice's ability to not talk. Something about the bounty hunter made it unbearably tempting to bother him. But she held her tongue and looked at the scenery. There was some shrubbery, but not much. The undergrowth was there, yes, but it seemed unusually sparse for the spacing of the trees. The bushes and non-arboreal vegetation that there was mostly had long sword-like leaves protruding from a central point. The leaf edges looked razor thin and razor sharp, probably as a defense against whatever would want to eat it. The trees, too, were strange here, vaguely fern-like, needle-thin leaves branching off each other like fractals. The branches curled away from the path shyly when she reached out to touch one. _Wonder what that's all about._

Each step was silent on the soft earth, ground springy from recent rain. It felt like there was a lot of humus, like lots of plants or animals had lived and died on this path. _It **is** in the nature of things living to die_, mused the apprentice, _but this feels... wrong_. This place was beautiful, but it gave her an uneasy feeling she couldn't quite put into words. She put the thought out of her mind and did her best to avoid stepping on delicate shoots, swirling around them in a funny twisting sort of dance and focusing on the sound of a distant animal chittering furiously like a bartender reprimanding a customer. Finally they crested a small ridge to see a cluster of buildings below. She smiled, though no one could see it.

"Oh, finally! I thought I'd have to endure your stony silence for another hour."

"Hmm." He grunted.

"You know, for someone who doesn't talk a lot, you sure _sigh_ a whole bunch." _Time to be a pest._ She simply couldn't help it. _It's the stillness_ , she thought. _He holds himself like a statue. Or a droid. So I have to periodically check that he's human._ And of course the only way she could do that was be so aggravating that he had to respond. "You 'hmm' a lot, too. I feel like someday you'll wake up and realize you've forgotten how to speak."

"You, on the other hand, are irritatingly _talkative._ "

"Well, there wasn't much else to do back at the Covert. Basic armor maintenance and thinking will only get you so far."

"Basic armor maintenance." he huffed. "Then why is there _rust_ on your helmet? I'd think an armorer's apprentice especially would take better care of her gear."

The apprentice visibly brightened, posture perking up like a dry mudjumper under cool rain. 

"This isn't _rust_ , they're repurposed droid photoreceptors. The images combine to create a full color picture with infrared and ultraviolet overlays that I can enable and disable with a corresponding wink. If I do the correct sequence I can see what's behind me in a one-hundred-eighty-degree view window on my heads-up display. It's all very cleverly wired through the shell to my helmet. It's a prototype for now, but I'm hoping to update the software soon. I bet I can make a program for motion highlighting if I could just figure out the damn commands." She was in her element and excited. This was her baby, her masterpiece, her magnum opus. It was the thing she had created to make the Mandalorian existence better.

"I also want to streamline the design fully and incorporate it into the helmet itself instead of a durasteel shell that locks onto the helmet. Unfortunately if the shell loses power for any reason, I'm blind until I disengage locks and remove it. If I incorporate the tech into the helmet itself, if it fails, I can still see through the visor, limited as it is."

The bounty hunter started walking away down the ridge. Not that he wasn't interested, but he felt that it was less than prudent to skyline themselves for ten minutes just so his companion could babble about technical modifications. Who knew what was in these woods. _Or who,_ his mind supplied unhelpfully. She followed, lifting the child to settle in the crook of one arm and continued to talk about her goals. He would willingly admit that he zoned out of her ramblings then, more focused on potential threats. And the apprentice knew it. Thankfully they both understood at least subconsciously that she was not saying the things she said so that the bounty hunter would understand them, but more saying them because they had to be said. _Sometimes you just gotta infodump. Get it all out._ And that's what she did, yammering the whole way down the slope and through the streets.

"...and that's also why I think beskar is better described as an alloy." 

They came to a stop in front of a rounded building larger than many of the others and the apprentice put the child down. The domed building looked to be mostly wooden with fabric tacked over it. The tan linen curtains over the entrance were tied open and the smell of meat and cooking food wafted out tantalizingly to tickle the apprentice's nose. Her stomach growled and she drifted forward alongside the bounty hunter inside. Beneath the shade of the large structure it seemed was a market, fresh food and goods being advertised and hawked through the crowds wherever the eye could see. They wove through the people, the bounty hunter keeping a close eye on the child and the crowds, glaring when someone got too close. But that was virtually a non-issue. People parted around the bounty hunter like a rock in the river, his facelessness and menacing demeanor more than enough to scare all but the most foolhardy away. 

When a loth cat hissed at the green toddler, the apprentice could feel the dour threat in the cock of his helmet. She shivered. _This must be how other people see Mandalorians._ If so, she could understand why they so studiously avoided more than glancing at her beskar-clad companion. But they _did_ openly stare at her. She supposed it was because she didn't look like a classic Mandalorian, but more a mockery of the culture. The elders had told her as much before, but she'd paid them little mind. She could handle being berated by the most respected people in the tribe and she could handle some staring. 

They came to an area with some low tables, each surrounded by barrel-seats with negligible backs. The bounty hunter gently deposited the big-eared baby in one of them and he giggled up into the black visor. It was still awfully cute to see someone so feared be so careful. The green terror was precious too, bundled up in a cut-down flight suit that was still too big for it. He sat next to the child, keeping a clear view of the area and the door, leaving the apprentice to take the third seat with her back to the room.

An older woman with dark hair tied back approached the table, somehow walking in a manner that indicated good humor and amicability before she could even speak.

"Welcome, travelers. Can I interest you in anything?"

"Bone broth, for the little one," answered the bounty hunter.

"Oh, well, you're in luck. I just took down a grinjer, so there's plenty. Can I interest you in a porringer of broth as well?" she asked. 

"Just the one."

"Very well," said the woman, making to retrieve their food. The bounty hunter spoke before she could take a step.

"That one over there," he indicated with a slight tilt of his helmet toward a woman with hair cut close to her scalp on one side and left to her chin on the other. "When did she arrive?"

The apprentice looked at the woman the bounty hunter mentioned and wondered what the hell he was doing. The hostess shook her head. "I've seen her here for the last week or so."

"What's her business here?"

"Business?" the woman chuckled. "Oh, well, there's not much business in Sorgan, so I can't say." She fidgeted with her apron and gave a sort of nervous little chuckle. The bounty hunter put down a coin on the table between them and her eyes were immediately drawn to it, continuing, "She doesn't strike me as a log runner." She scooped up the credit. "Well, thank you, sir. I will get that broth to you as soon as possible, and I will throw in a flagon of spotchka just for good measure. I will be right back with that."

As soon as she walked away, the bounty hunter noticed the woman he had asked about had vanished and he abruptly stood. 

"Keep an eye on the kid," he told the apprentice. Of course, she didn't much like being told what to do, but before she could respond he was gone, sweeping out of the restaurant with a swish of his charcoal gray cape. She scowled briefly, but wasn't keen to dwell on something so trivial. She waved the older woman back over to the table.

"Could I get two of those meat kebabs, please?"

"Oh, of course, I'll bring it with the rest of your items. Your friend more than paid for it."

"Thank you," the apprentice said, putting as much of a warm smile into her modulated voice as she could. "Could you wrap them up in a napkin for me?" she asked, making it sound like an afterthought as she lifted the green menace to sit on her lap.

"Sure," said the hostess, walking away toward the kitchen. 

Soon after, a green Twi'lek woman wandered over boldly. She was tall, towering over the apprentice, and gorgeous _. Maker, help me._

"Hello," she said with a charming grin, swinging one leg over the chair the bounty hunter once occupied and leaning her chin on her elbows on the table. "What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" 

"Getting lunch," said the apprentice nervously. _Fuck, fuck, fuck, she's flirting with me what do I say?_ "Um, what are you doing here?"

The Twi'lek laughed. "Getting to know the most interesting thing that's come to Sorgan in a good long while."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i was feeling really lesbian tonight


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry I really wanted to have a wonderful bambi lesbian experience but I just couldn't fit it in T-T so I had to make her a less savory character. Also really really sorry about the late update. I fucked up my hands and it hurt to type. ALSO I'm not at all happy with this chapter and may go back and mess with it later, but for now my fingers ache and my head spins with story-webs to untangle.

The apprentice blushed. This was Attention with a capital A, the pure pharmaceutical-grade stuff. And it was _intoxicating._ Especially coming from someone as pretty as the Twi'lek still looking at her with that heavy-lidded gaze. _It's not you she likes. She can't see your face, there's probably something wrong,_ the apprentice told herself. But _Maker_ , to be so unabashedly flirted with was something she hadn't had in a long time. A _long_ time. _Helmet leering down at her, sweet words with sour behind-_ The smile slipped off her face then, remembering, and something in her posture must have changed, too, because that gorgeous green-skinned woman wasn't smiling at her the same way anymore. This smile was more... _calculated,_ like it was manufactured specifically to put a skittish quarry at ease. She sat up, the seductive tilt of her head abandoned to look at her curiously. The apprentice thought she might have seen a flicker of an intended glance toward her beskar vambrace. Something in the back of her head whispered.

"Hm. Not interested?" she said.

She was spared the ordeal of answering by the return of the hostess with the meal.

"Your food," said the hostess, placing the cup of broth and napkin-wrapped kebabs before the apprentice. "Now you be sure to be safe and have a nice day." It was spoken a kind-hearted platitude but it felt so much more like a warning. She glanced sidelong at the apprentice's new companion before setting the spotchka between them. The Twi'lek woman graciously accepted the spotchka and took a swig.

She opened her mouth to speak, but the little horror in the apprentice's lap squealed and slurped his broth noisily, squirming away and down her leg. 

"That your kid?" asked the green beauty. There was something hungry in her eyes. Thoughtful in a way a casual stranger shouldn't be. 

"For now, I guess." The child tugged at her cape meaningfully and looked out the way the bounty hunter had vanished. She was growing to dislike this woman's questions. It was time to go before the roiling tide of anxiety in her stomach knotted any tighter. Something was wrong, she could feel it. Obviously the child felt it, too, as his cries grew sharper and his fingers tugged at her legs to get her attention. The last time she'd felt this unsettled... She had to get out. Get away. 

"My... husband has been gone too long," she said stiffly. "I- I should go find him. He has a knack for trouble." She chuckled, but the sound was just a little bit forced. 

"Oh," said the pretty green lady. "That's... Well, I'll let you go, then." And she stood, brushing against the apprentice as she went with a wink and one last blown kiss.

Nauseous and unsure why, the apprentice snatched the food from the table and, feeling very small, walked outside with the little green menace a step ahead. Later when she checked her pockets she would notice her credits were missing, and feel a strange little pang of something she couldn't describe when she realized that included her little flan.

* * *

"Alone for ten minutes and already starting fights? Is this going to be a regular occurrence with you?" the apprentice asked, trying not to giggle. All anxiety and traces of doubt had disappeared when she'd walked outside to see the bounty hunter and that sharp-looking woman lying in the dirt, blasters aimed at each other in a standoff. The dust was everywhere, and she was sure it had gotten into his vambraces and chestplate. _Imagine he takes it off and a whole load of brown dust puffs out. Wouldn't that be a pain to clean._

When he slowly tilted his helmet to look at her, she could just feel the annoyance seeping out of him. _My goal accomplished,_ she thought ironically. The woman aiming a blaster at him looked at her in confusion.

"You want some soup?" the apprentice asked her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The original purpose of this fanfic was to be able to use the line "You say such gentle things like you expect me not to fall in love with them. With you. Well, you were wrong. I did. And I am."


End file.
